She paused, listening to the response.

“No, Carl isn’t here,” she said.

“He’s probably crying in his truck.”

She laughed, a dry, sharp sound that echoed in the cavernous room.

“The inspectors will be here in ten minutes,” she said.

“Once I turn this valve, the whole basement will be a hazard zone.”

She set the heavy wrench down on top of the electrical control box with a loud clang.

The sound made me jump, but Carl put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

His grip was firm and reassuring.

Mallerie reached for the main pressure release valve on the side of the boiler.

It was a large brass wheel, green with age and corrosion.

She fitted her brass key into the lock collar next to the wheel.

“It’s stiff,” she muttered into her earpiece.

“I need to leverage it.”

She picked up the steel wrench again.

I looked over at Derek’s hiding spot.

He had his phone raised above the wooden doors, the camera pointed directly at his mother.

His hand was shaking, but he kept the lens steady.